Lost in the Fog
by elfchicks
Summary: Aragorn has gotten the Fellowship lost...again. And where do they find themselves, but in another world?
1. Chapter 1

**Lost in the Fog…**

_Lisa Young; Typist: Sarah Martin (2006)_

One day, Aragorn was leading the Fellowship through the woods, when a thick fog suddenly enveloped them. When the mist finally cleared, Aragorn did not recognize anything. He hadn't the slightest idea where they were, but decided not to mention it, in case he had just succeeded in getting everyone lost again. Legolas was the next to notice that something was wrong. He could always tell when the ranger was lost. Aragorn had a peculiar habit of glancing back every few seconds when he was lost. Legolas decided that he had best get the group headed in the right direction once again, rather than risk wandering aimlessly for hours.

"Aragorn!" he called. "Do you know where we are?"

"Um…not…uh…exactly…." Aragorn replied nervously.

"Maybe the fog threw you off," Legolas offered helpfully.

"We are lost?" muttered Gandalf. "Not again."

"Lost!" wailed Gimli dramatically. "Hopelessly lost! We shall perish in the wilderness! Wandering till the end of our days!"

"Um…Gimli?" Pippin started.

"Not now, Pippin," Gimli barked. "Can't you see I'm busy?"

"But, Gimli…" the hobbit tried again.

"Not now," Gimli said firmly, before continuing his emotional soliloquy. "Starvation will set in—one by one, we shall die slow, painful deaths! We'll—"

"_Helpful_ comments only, Gimli," Legolas interposed forcefully, nodding toward Frodo, Sam and Merry, who were standing wide-eyed, looking rather pale.

"Sorry," Gimli said, then added in his most optimistic voice: "Look on the bright side—we may not live that long! This place is sure to be teeming with Orcs!"

"That is not helpful!" Legolas glared at Gimli. Suddenly, he felt a small tug on his shirt. Pippin was standing there.

"Legolas…I—"

"Don't worry, Pippin, we're not going to die."

"It's not that…it's—"

"Oh, the food. Don't worry, there is more than enough. Now, run along and let _us_ do the worrying."

Legolas gave Pippin a light push toward the other Hobbits. He then sidled up to Gandalf to figure out the situation.

"Well," said Boromir, "we could not have traveled far into the fog, so if we backtrack, it won't take us long to get back into familiar territory. That is, if we weren't lost before…"

"No, we weren't!" snapped Aragorn irritably.

"You don't have to yell at me!" Boromir retorted. "It's not _my_ fault we are lost!"

"I didn't see _you_ volunteering to lead!"

"Listen, big-shot! Just because you're the 'True King of Gondor' doesn't mean—"

"Excuse me…" Pippin tried.

"—you can order me around!"

"Uh…Boromir?" Pippin tried again.

"Well!" Aragorn yelled back at Boromir. "I never!"

"No, you should _never_! Ever!"

"Aragorn?" Pippin was getting angry.

"If you want to, why don't you just leave?" Aragorn demanded.

"I think I will." Boromir turned to depart.

"WHY WON'T ANYONE LISTEN TO ME?" Pippin screamed at the top of his lungs.

Everyone turned shocked faces on him, immensely surprised by this outburst.

"All I wanted to do," Pippin continued, "was tell you that there is civilization right over there! But, would you listen? NO!"

The other Fellowship members were now looking beyond Pippin through the trees at a decent sized, surprisingly rectangular field covered in short, manicured grass and small, white flowers. On the far side of the field, they could make out some strange structures. All was quiet, and they were about to walk out of the woods to explore, when they heard a short, distant buzz. Subsequently, the joyful screams of children met their ears. Soon, the children could be heard climbing the hill that led to the field on the opposite side. When the kids reached the field, the first thing the Fellowship noticed was their odd clothing. It was brightly colored—every color they had ever seen, and then some! The children, it was quickly determined, were all human. At length, two adults came up to the field and stood at the top of the hill, talking.

It was soon decided that Aragorn, Boromir and the Hobbits would strike out across the field toward the adults. One of the adults was small and rather plump. Her hair was short and curled close to her head. The other was taller and had brown, shoulder-length hair. The kids, who had been playing an unfamiliar game in which a black and white checkered ball was kicked between a pair of cones placed on either side of the field, all stopped what they had been doing to stare.

Upon reaching the adults, Aragorn tried to gather information.

"Excuse me, Maam," he started, trying to ignore the inquisitive stares and bright clothing, "I was wondering where—"

He was cut off by the taller of the two women, who had just noticed the Hobbits.

"Well, hello there, boys!" she addressed them, obviously mistaking them for children. "Is this your daddy?" She turned to Aragorn. "Are these yours?"

"Actually, no—" Aragorn tried to explain.

"Oh, are they _yours_?" she asked, turning to Boromir.

"Well, you see—"

The shorter woman spoke up. "You must be here to register them for school."

The tall one jumped back in. "Oh, yes! Of course. Come with me." She took Merry and Frodo's hands and pulled them down the hill, giving them no chance to protest. Pippin, Sam, Aragorn and Boromir followed helplessly behind.

Back in the woods (which surrounded three sides of the field), the remaining members of the Fellowship followed as closely as they dared until they saw the Men and Hobbits disappear into a red brick building. The hill was open and went down until it met three buildings, two of which were identical. They were most definitely man-made, for they lacked the elegance of the Elves, but were built with too much care to be Dwarvish. The buildings, which were about twenty feet wide and sixty feet long, were constructed of wooden planks, which were painted a dull gray color. The other building was built of red bricks and good sized.

Legolas, Gandalf and Gimli slipped cautiously up to the back of the larger building, hoping to find out what was going on. Legolas and Gandalf checked the windows to see if they could locate their missing comrades (Gimli was too short to see in). The first five windows showed classrooms, but through the sixth, they could see Aragorn, Boromir and the Hobbits standing before a desk, where a sour looking woman was questioning them. Boromir and Aragorn didn't stand a chance; they had left their swords with the others. Then, the Hobbits were pulled off, and Boromir couldn't take it anymore. He raised his horn to his lips and blew a loud, sharp blast.

Legolas crashed through the window with the swords in hand. When the blades had been returned to the Men, Aragorn and Boromir charged into the hallway to reclaim the abducted Hobbits. The children had just come in from recess, and upon seeing two men with upraised swords and one (who they thought was a man) with a longbow charge out of the principal's office, they started screaming in terror. Gimli and Gandalf didn't help matters any. As the kids raced for the door, Gimli rushed in, axe upraised, with Gandalf close behind, wielding his glowing staff. The Fellowship searched desperately for the Hobbits, but to no avail. Before they could conduct a proper search, however, the police arrived. They confronted Gimli first.

"You're going to have to come with us," said one officer, aiming his pistol convincingly at the dwarf. "Just lower the axe and we'll take you to the car."

"How are you going to make me?" Gimli swung his axe menacingly. The officer discharged his pistol, blowing the blade off the axe.

Thanks to the police's superior weapons, they had soon apprehended Gimli, Gandalf, Aragorn and Boromir. Legolas had used his handy entrance as an exit. Once he was a good distance into the woods, he weighed his options. The Hobbits would be safe enough, he decided. No one at the school had any weapons, let alone any fighting ability. Therefore, he would track the others instead. Hopefully they weren't too far away. Before he did much, Legolas decided to obtain different clothes. He would need to blend in.

To Be Continued…


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

The Hobbits were having trouble of their own. They had been led off to the second of the gray buildings. Here, they met a new person, a tall woman with short black hair. She led them into a room, where they saw six children sitting at two tables, working on math. Two were boys and the rest girls. All the children stopped what they were doing to stare at the Hobbits.

"Shannon, Ben, Thomas: go sit with Nat's group," the woman spoke up.

"But, Mrs. W, we can't concentrate there!" the blonde girl, who had been sitting with the two boys, complained.

"Shannon, it's just for today," Mrs. W said firmly. "These boys have to take their placement tests."

Shannon muttered something under her breath, but picked up her books and went along with the boys. Upon their reaching the other table, the group commenced whispering and giggling.

Mrs. W invited the "boys" to sit down, and started asking them questions. "So, how old are you? We'll start with you." She indicated Frodo.

"I'm fifty," he answered honestly.

"Okay, enough joking. How old are you?" she said, smiling sweetly.

"But, I told you already," insisted Frodo plaintively. "I'm—"

"Okay," Mrs. W interjected, "I don't have time for this. I'll be back in five minutes. If you aren't ready to be serious by then, you can have detention." She walked out, slamming the door behind her in frustration.

The Hobbits held a whisper conference.

"Now what?" asked Sam, with a questioning shrug.

"Well," Merry said quietly, "we should try to blend in."

"Oh, that will be easy!" Frodo responded mockingly.

"No, really, it should!" Merry insisted quickly. "The strange women obviously think we're human children, like _them_." He motioned toward the group at the other table with his eyes, then continued, "We can pretend that we are human children until the others show back up."

They discussed this idea a little, then agreed it was the most reasonable plan.

"First," Merry told them, enjoying his temporary role as the leader, "we have to find out what age we should say we are."

"Let's ask them!" suggested Pippin loudly, pointing at the children, who all ceased chatting and turned to stare at him. Pippin used this opportunity to initiate a conversation.

"Um…hello! I'm Pippin! How old do you think we should say—do you think we are?"

The kids looked at each other, then began yelling out answers.

"Um—eight!"

"No—ten!"

"Uh…eight."

"Seven!"

"Ten!"

"Nine?"

The door opened, and the children quickly returned to their work, as Mrs. W entered the room.

"Well?" she questioned, searchingly.

Merry clapped Frodo sturdily on the shoulder.

"Nine!" Frodo yelped. "I think…."

"You _think_?"

"Well…um…you…see…uh…I…."

"That's okay. I'm sure nine is close enough. And how old are the rest of you? About nine?"

"Yes!" Merry, Pippin, and Sam blurted out collectively.

"Okay, well, take this test and we'll see where you are in school." She pointed toward the placement tests she had set on the table earlier.

Each hobbit took his test and started, trying to answer the outlandish questions. They proceeded through the math section fairly well, until they arrived at the story problems.

"Merry!" Pippin whispered. "If Rosie has five cherries, and Mike takes two—"

"Hey!" Sam interrupted, "who is this 'Mike,' and what is he doing with Rosie's cherries?"

"It's just a story, Sam," Merry replied. "It didn't really happen."

"Oh…right…. Sorry," Sam muttered.

They continued working through the test without further incident, until they reached the history section.

"Merry?" Pippin whispered once more.

"What?" Merry responded, slightly annoyed.

"Who was the 1st president?"

"What? How should I know? Um…what are the choices?"

"Abraham Lincoln, William Jefferson Clinton, George Washington, and Johnny Depp."

* * *

Aragorn tried again to explain to the officers in his car what had happened. "We were just trying to rescue the Hobbits! Why can't you understand that?" he nearly yelled in frustration.

The driver stifled a laugh as the other officer continued to attempt to fill out his report. "What is your full name?" he asked.

"I've told you before, you may call me Strider."

"First and last names, please."

"I'm not telling you all my names," Aragorn said defensively.

"All your names?" asked the officer, eyes beginning to look glazed-over. "How many do you have?"

"You don't want to know," offered Gimli, helpfully. "It would take all night!"

Aragorn gave him the look.

"Well, it's true," Gimli mumbled under his breath. Boromir and Gandalf nodded in agreement.

The officers looked at each other briefly, somewhat baffled. Finally, the one filling out the report turned back to Aragorn. "Alright, this oughtta be good. Humor me. Give me all your names, please. And don't leave any out."

Gandalf and Boromir rolled their eyes and groaned.

Aragorn took a deep breath, then began, somewhat reluctantly, in a deeper, narrator-type voice. "I am called Arathornion, Estel, Strider, Elfstone, Wingfoot, Elessar, Heir of Isildur, King of Gondor, Thorongil, Telcontar…" (Two hours later.) "…Evinyatar, and Aragorn."

The officer writing the report looked down at the ten full pages of names he had written and sighed. "You really are a case. Care to explain why you have so many names?"

"Well," began Aragorn cheerfully, "The main reason I have so many names is because of my true identity: the Heir of Isildur! For this reason, my stepfather, Elrond, initially concealed my identity in order to keep me safe from the Dark Lord, and later to give me the challenge of re-uniting the kingdoms of Arnor and Gondor. Before this could be accomplished, I traveled widely, but did not want it to be known who I really was. This led me to take whatever names were given to me, meaning that I was called many things in many places. Kind of like Gandalf here. Some of his names are—"

The officer cut him off. "I think I've had enough of that for one night. But, hey - maybe you folks'll get off the hook with a plea of insanity."

The car pulled up to the police station, where they were escorted inside. The officers from the car hurried back out as soon as they could.

"This time," Boromir hissed at Aragorn, "I get to answer the questions."

"Be my guest," Aragorn muttered under his breath.

"I will be the one answering the questions!" Gandalf announced to Boromir.

Overhearing him, an officer came over. "Good," he said smiling, "Let's start with your name."

* * *

Meanwhile, back at the school, it was lunchtime. When the Hobbits realized this, they tried to keep as low a profile as possible as they followed the rest of the class to the lunchroom. However, this was rather difficult since Merry and Pippin kept trying to surreptitiously slip in front of the other students to assure a good position in the line. Sam and Frodo were required, many a time, to grab them by their hoods and pull them back.

"What do you think they eat?" Pippin questioned quietly as they went along down the hall. Secretly, he hoped there would be mushrooms.

"How should I know?" said Sam, somewhat annoyed. Ever since that long, confusing placement test, he had been acting rather perturbed.

Frodo tried his best. "Humans generally eat well. I should think it will be satisfying, at any rate."

"If there's enough of it, that is," added Merry.

At last, they reached the lunchroom. The smell of pepperoni and melted cheese greeted the hobbits.

"What's that smell?" Pippin asked the boy in front of him.

"What? The pizza? It's lunch… DUH!" he replied before returning to his own conversation.

"What's pizza?" Pippin whispered to Merry.

"How should I know?" Merry shot back, trying to push in front of Pippin.

Finally, they reached the front of the line and grabbed trays. After receiving the delicious smelling food from sour looking servers, they sat down at the least densely populated table available and inspected their "pizza."

Pippin didn't wait around too long before digging in. It was a bit hot, but he didn't mind. As the taste registered with him, his eyes widened and a smile slowly crept onto his face.

The others watched his reaction with some interest. "What's it like, Pip?" asked Merry, earnestly.

Pippin began wolfishly scarfing the rest of the pizza, rather messily, I might add, and was therefore far too busy to reply.

The other hobbits exchanged glances briefly, then together picked up their respective pieces of pizza….

Sam bit into his next. Then Merry and Frodo. It was only a matter of seconds until they had all finished their pizza. They had soon cleaned their trays and were looking for more food.

"SECONDS!" someone yelled from the front of the cafeteria. Merry jumped up with his tray and ran to get back in line. Pippin, Sam, and Frodo followed close behind. ~


End file.
